I Wish I Could Feel It
by TruC7
Summary: Jewel of Denial ending inspired. One shot. He'd end up dying alone or agree to a marriage of convenience just to please his father. That's Chuck Bass- unconventional on the surface. Underneath, though, he's a lot like Blair Waldorf than he'd ever admit.


**The Beast**

_Authors Note: I know I'm not the only one who bawled her heart out when CB fell from that bike and when he was hurting during the end of The Jewel of Denial. I really don't know if this piece is any good but I wrote it because I'm struggling with his pain like he's struggling with it. So do let me know what you think._

**Lyrics belong to the song My Skin by Natalie Merchant.**

**_I_**_ Wish **I** Could Feel **I**t_

Let me tell you what would have happened in an ordinary universe.

In the ordinary universe Chuck Bass is never one for the traditional, the conventional. In an ordinary universe, Bart Bass would have lived and Chuck Bass would have ended up dying alone, Scotch in hand while Blair and Nate stuck in a Bedford marriage together. In an ordinary universe, Chuck Bass would have possibly agreed to a marriage of convenience just to please his father but only if he had to. In an ordinary universe Chuck Bass would have never felt.

That's the ordinary universe.

And then there was the world Chuck and Blair.

_Blair knows him inside out. Knows he's not the Charming, Prince._

_Stop trying to act the wife!_

_But today…. when you called me your wife, you made it sound like the ugliest word in the world. _

_Now that I know I'm ready I realize you're not. _

_You have years before you're capable of a real relationship. If you ever will be. _

_About happiness? Chuck that's not the most important thing!_

_You think you don't want it cuz you've never had it and that scares you. But you deserve your fairytale._

_You can't marry anyone else. You're_ mine.

_Blair. I'm so sorry. For all the pain I've caused you. _

_And what are we Chuck? You tell me._

_I know I can't take it back but I want to try and make it up to you. Even if it takes me the rest of my life._

_You said it yourself, it's not for us._

_Blair. Will you-_

He knows who he is. On the surface, he's just Chuck Bass. But beneath that, he's a lot more like Blair Waldorf than he'd admit.

_Well, contempt loves the silence, it thrives in the dark_

_The fine winding tendrils that strangle the heart_

_They say that promises sweeten the blow_

_But I don't need them_

_No, I don't need them_

When he was born, he was pure. He had the biggest doe eyes that opened without hesitation to view the world around them, they were huge, soft brown, curious and warm; Chuck Bass had beautiful eyes.

What he saw confused him. When he did understand, it struck him. For a long time, those eyes remained open wide, open with shock. When it sunk in, he stopped looking. When he did open them again, they were darker, slanted, wary slits. His eyes were cat eyes and they watched the world covertly waiting for a target weaker than himself.

He tried to understand his mother's crying, pleading, his father's yelling- something about Jack Bass. He tried to understand the controversy, the agony, the betrayal. He tried to understand his father throwing his mother out of their house and his mother's face- a waterfall of salty wetness as she brokenly, clumsily kissed him goodbye. He tried to understand the silence. The truth.

The more he saw, the more he wanted to look away.

Chuck struggled to understand his father. Struggled to understand the memories that dimmed and eventually could have only been a dream- clearly his imagination had formed a desperate picture of his mother that wasn't real- she was beautiful in the fake memories. She had his eyes.

Struggled to understand his father's hatred and long absences and bitterness.

He had killed her, that's what they told him.

When he realized he no longer wanted to see, he only observed with eyes half shut, he never looked at anything except discreetly, fleetingly, never wanted to look long enough to feel as much.

_I've been treated so wrong, I've been treated so long_

_As if I'm becoming untouchable_

_I'm a slow, dying flower in the frost killing hour_

_Sweet turning sour and untouchable_

So maybe he pretended to be the monster because that's what he'd been named at birth. But their title had been a lie because he _hadn't_ killed his mother. And they had in turn, with their barbed lies, killed him before he had a chance to decide who he wanted to be.

If he _had_ had the chance to decide, maybe he would have admitted to being more like Blair than even she'd have recognized.

Maybe he wanted the daddy that called him cute, animal nicknames and the mother, who formed a useful comrade under her arrogant shell. Maybe he wanted the fantasy themed birthday parties and the candy exploding balloons and maybe he liked Blair's hand in his as they ran around the faux palace grounds that were really sandpits with crumbling, feather soft sandcastles. Maybe he hadn't wanted the isolation since birth after all. Maybe when Nate had left him temporarily for Dan, it had really, really hurt.

And maybe he wanted to be a Prince and maybe he wanted to find a Princess. And maybe, when he found her he wanted to take her to the top most tower and fight off every evil dragon that tried to take her away with a plastic sword. Maybe he had always wanted that. What did they know?

Maybe he had once worn a paper crown on the one Disney themed birthday party one of his kinder nannies had thrown for him and thought himself a real Prince as he'd blown out the candles. Maybe he'd really felt like royalty as Blair had kissed him on the cheek as a birthday present. _They knew nothing._

_Do you remember the way, you touched me before_

_All the trembling sweetness that I adored_

_Your face saving promises, whispered like prayers_

_I don't need them_

And maybe at some point he had always wanted a dog. Maybe once he'd even naively asked Bart for a puppy. Maybe he'd fallen in love with that unconditionally adoring dog for exactly half a glorious day and laughed and_ laughed_ for real and played ball with it and hugged it and loved it until Bart's allergies kicked in and the dog was kicked out? Maybe Chuck had pretended to hate dogs after that because then he and his father would have had something in common and he didn't want to be kicked out too and he loved his father so much more desperately, even more than he could have loved Monkey anyway

_I need the darkness_

_The sweetness_

_The sadness_

_The weakness_

_Oh, I need this_

When he saw Monkey again, it wasn't the same dog but Chuck had to hand it to Dan for bringing a very close match and coming so close to breaking his shell without knowing any back story at all. Maybe Dan's instincts as a writer weren't so bad.

Blair named her dog Handsome. He named his Monkey. Surely there has to be some irony in that. He did it because the name, with all its irony, reminded him of her.

_I need a lullaby_

_A kiss goodnight_

_Angel sweet, love of my life_

_Oh, I need this_

Maybe he secretly loved kids. Maybe when he had first gotten to have Eric as a younger brother those was all his protective, brotherly instinct kicking in as he hooked his arm carelessly around the skinny younger boy with his ridiculous blonde highlights and stood by him when he knew he was hurting.

Maybe all he had needed was a chance.

Maybe Blair had never really understood him at all.

_I need this._

He's worried when he raises his shirt and sees the ugly, raw red wound only because he realizes he hadn't even twitched with pain over its occurrence. He's even more worried when he doesn't mind Humphrey's presence or the mutt that he drags it. The mutt blinked all confusedly at him, with these large, innocent, wondering eyes. Chuck wondered why that reminds him of something.

When Blair enters his life again, all fresh fragrance of citrus, lemon and peonies, he looked up half expecting a ghost but it's really her. It really is the girl with the bobbing curls and the pretty smile and the sad, sad eyes.

_I thought we said everything we had to the last time we saw each other._

She did look so pained. He felt half a stab but it was a stab of pleasure, thinking she still cared to come to him when he was in pain. She came to take some of it away. Even when he chided Humphrey then in front of her, he loved Dan dearly deep inside for this gift.

It was no longer Humphrey it was now Dan.

Perhaps because he feels something in common with the man who clearly loves the girl Chuck still loves, will always love. Perhaps because Dan is the only one who truly feels what Chuck cannot feel anymore. Maybe because Dan gets it, feels it, feels _hurt_ and Chuck is dying to. Maybe because Dan sees him and is _trying_- trying to help- _why_ Chuck doesn't know- but Dan must care at least a jot to help- who cares if he's doing this for her- Chuck needs all the help he can get when his face swells like a beehive as the muggers hit him but he feels nothing but colorless.

He felt. He felt like he had to breathe on because life held some future. Because Blair entered and looked at him like that.

_Chuck._

Just the way she said it. She cared for him, still. Of course she did.

Except.

When she said the words she says next, he doesn't know what he feels as he looks up again. He watches her. Her beautiful, sad face. He cannot- believe- comprehend- understand- the meaning of the words she has uttered. It makes no sense. No sense to him. These words are not his language. These words do no belong in the language he understands.

_I'm-_

No, he does not understand.

But suddenly somehow some long shut floodgates inside of him open and he gasps internally because there is a white, hot blinding sensation literally swirling like a twister in his insides and he does remember this feeling.

And for one, just for one blessed, strange moment he believes it belongs to him and he thinks it belongs to them and he wonders just- in that lightening strike of a second he wonders- how much it would look like Blair- how much it would look like him and he feels as though everything in the world is fixed suddenly and absolutely-

_It's Louis's._

His expression doesn't change, it still blank but the white hot blinding sensation now makes itself known, it is no longer confused, blistering, screaming, swirling, twirling, blasting joy _(joy?)_ it is agony and it is set out to crucify him.

_Well is it dark enough_

_Can you see me_

_Do you want me_

_Can you reach me_

_Oh, I'm leaving_

He doesn't know if she's trying to comfort him, but he looks away swiftly and his hand rises to stop her from saying anything anyway because suddenly it- the feeling overcomes him, and his ribs are trying to explode their way out of his body.

_I didn't want you to find out from someone else-_

He's barely manages to say it without choking on his own words, the pain makes him want to double over but he is mastering it, he has to just for now, he has to numb this.

_That's very considerate._

Sarcastically he says it, tasting bile.

When he looks at her the smile on his face is a wound.

_Yes. Well._ Her face cracks, her eyes scatter and then refix to meet his. _If I know anything about Chuck Bass it's that fatherhood isn't part of the lifestyle._

He thinks of the first time he knew he wanted Blair no matter what and that she wasn't going to leave his system no matter what. He remembers the first time he felt butterflies for her. Soft, incessant, stubborn and fluttery. They flooded his very soul and never left since they first breathed in him. They _couldn't_ be murdered. He thinks of how he altered his entire life so that he could have her, so that he could mould himself into hers. He thinks of how he always knew Blair Waldorf, knew her inside out so she was a fool if she thought he hadn't considered everything that came with the package. By wanting her forever, he had also signed up for her fairytale. _I want you to be happy however that's achieved._ He would become a frigging Prince if that made him perfect in her eyes.

What lifestyle is she talking about? _It's the reason I couldn't say I love you._ He had known that once he'd say it, he'd have to become the flawless boyfriend Nate so he had dawdled not sure he was ready, not sure he could do it, but he had, damn it, he _had._ When he said it, he went backwards and forwards, beyond himself, trying to be impeccably mannered and the ultimate beau for her. Had she not seen it? Not seen how he had been the perfect escort every second they had been together?

He had always known wanting Blair Waldorf meant wanting an early marriage. Always known it meant the biggest rock on a ring, the perfect wedding, the perfect family. He wasn't a blind idiot. He had even asked her. And she had never even replied.

But even if he was willing didn't mean that she was. That's what sinks in. Not that he isn't ready. Just that she isn' doesn't blame Blair for not seeing it, but the truth is, that's what he's been trying to tell people (her) all along. He's not a monster.

_You better shut your mouth_

_And hold your breath_

_And kiss me now_

_And catch your death_

_Oh, I mean this_

_You must have been relieved when you realized you weren't carrying my offspring._

He says it so shrewdly and he watches her so carefully while he says it, because he knows she could be lying and he wants to watch her face for any signs of cracks, any signs of hope.

_It certainly would have derailed your fairytale. _He says with a soft smirk.

Blair's face twitches and her eyes knot before her expression clears.

_This fairytale is…. complicated._

Monkey patters up to sniff her hello. She lets out a surprised squeal and automatically reaches to ruffle the dog. She seems strange when she hears about how he kept the dog, and he's almost in a daze when he says, "I got him fixed, I thought it was the responsible thing to do."

Blair looks at him with honest regret on her face and almost sweetly pleadingly she croons, "There is part of me that really wanted it to be yours."

There is such genuine torment in her eyes when she confesses and that desire of hers, it shocks him and grapples him and makes him burn over the life that was his to have, if he had just believed he was worth it and not believed what they told him. Chuck doesn't watch for cracks then. He believes her.

Blair turns and leaves in a soft dance of herbal fragrance and deep-scented peonies her heels clacking for the last time on his floor.

He's frozen for the longest time after she leaves.

And then he crumbles to the floor.

They shouldn't have decided who he was for him. Maybe if they hadn't he could have decided for himself. She shouldn't have decided. Maybe if she hadn't, he could have told her what he had really wanted all along.

Chuck truly cries for the first time since he cried in her arms over Bart, he doesn't know which hurts worst, is it the ache of agony deep in his bones or is the ache of being left alone? Monkey comes and he turns suddenly because he was so certain that the whole world had left him. When the dog soothingly puts his chin on Chuck's chest and when Chuck feels the weight there he's suddenly a child again and like he had when he had been small, he hugs the dog vice tightly to him and kisses him thank you for being there and sheds tears like he had so long ago right before Bart had taken his pet away.

He says to the darkness what he hadn't said to Blair the night he had made himself, _forced _himself to leave her forever. Of course he had thought it through for her but he hadn't thought it through for himself. He hadn't thought through how he was going to survive it, but that wasn't important- the important thing was that she must never know how much it destroyed him to let her fingers slip through his

He whispered to the darkness, the truth he hadn't admitted to himself all along, the truth he couldn't face.

_I'm going to die without you._


End file.
